


The Demonstartion

by Pelissa



Series: RP Madness [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chris took the fall in RE5, Extremely Dubious Content, Forced hand job, M/M, P30!Chris, Wound Fucking, a new creative form of hand job, body control, this is really fucked up and I am sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 08:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12503124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pelissa/pseuds/Pelissa
Summary: The investors for Wesker's projects were rethinking their donations, so Wesker had to demonstrate the success of one of his projects. Unfortunately Chris was standing in the wrong room at the wrong time and got dragged into this mess.> (Chris took the fall from the Spencer Estate in RE5 and is now Tricell's and Wesker's slave.)





	The Demonstartion

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy - university work is loading up, writing on my thesis, working on other stuff, entering a rp circle. I didn't find the time to finish any of the new chapters for my other stories but they are nearly done, so don't worry. Maybe soon one of them gets updated.
> 
> Menawhile I present you the result of an RP with a nice friend of mine.  
> They played Chris  
> I played Wesker (and BOI... I don't know how the shit in this story did happen)  
> Edited by me  
> ENJOY (or run as long as you still can)

Icy blue eyes widened momentarily before raising from the mug of coffee he had been holding for quite a while now. He didn't notice how long he was standing there and simply staring into the air, some unidentified spot, which is why someone coming into the kitchen really caught him off-guard, thus snapping him right back into reality.

His shoulders jumped as well; making him almost drop the mug he was holding. Chris tightened his grip, locking his eyes on the figure in black coming towards him, exhaling as his mind began to re-process the events of the last ten minutes. He began questioning just how long he was daydreaming, staring blankly at that one spot. The drink was still rather hot to the touch - the gloves preventing the man from getting any burns.

Perhaps it wasn't that long after all.

 

Wesker had walked into the room, a dark aura invading the room as soon as he did so. He was stiff and his face devoid of any emotion, like usual. There was a heavy outtake of air through his lips - a noticeable tired sigh - as he stopped a mere inches away from him. His shoulders slumped the slightest bit before he turned towards Chris. It was clear he was downright exhausted.

“Scientists are utterly useless. Complete imbeciles,” Wesker spat, eyeing Chris in the process. It seemed like he was starting small-talk which was rather unlikely for the tyrant.

“They failed with your dosage. I noted the small jump and surprise. You are not completely focused.” It was a precise observation but, coming from Wesker, it sounded more like an insult or accusation, like it was Chris fault that he was not the skilled slave he wanted to have yet.

 

Lidded eyes glanced over to the tyrant as he spoke, blinking slowly as he processed his words, his brain was rather slow because of the drug today - was he being called out for the lack of his hyper-vigilance? He blinked once more, eyes returning to the coffee in his mug. The device resting on his chest would dull out any reactions, that was true, but it also improved his senses so - he didn't know how to explain himself.

 

"I think my mind was a bit off, not that the device has failed you." He managed to say eventually. It was hard for him to speak unless given a clear opening - an order - but with Wesker allowing him the tiniest bit of control over his body, moving out of place and speaking out of place wasn't impossible. The only thing he was still incapable of is to hurt the older man. His programming would simply not allow that.

"I only had two hours of sleep..."

 

Something about Chris‘ reply clearly displeased the other blond man, his eyes narrowing and jaw tightening in answer. It seemed like he was about to make some snide remark, but stopped promptly as he opened his mouth. After a sharp intake of air Wesker broke the eye contact and opened the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water.

There were visible dark circles under his eyes, his face rather pale on second glance. It was plainly obvious that the tyrant was the one who hadn’t slept at all. Maybe not even for several days.

“If you are that tired, then you shall go to bed. Maybe I can get one of those nasty worms around here to get you warm milk with honey. Do you require a warm blanket as well?”

 

Chris was rather uncomfortable being alone with Wesker when he was in such a mood – being a sarcastic douche - but his legs were stuck in place. There was nothing he could do besides forcing himself to drink the hot liquid as the other spoke, in a rather irritated and condescending manner. He was used to it, for the most part. Those weren't the words he's been scared of, anyway.

"I need to escort Excella today... I can't afford sleep." He briefly replied, before trying to fix his eyes on something else. Anything. Just something that wasn't the threatening figure. "You too look like you could use some sleep."

The former brunet should have expected the glare sent towards him, which was admittedly less vicious than expected due to the tyrant’s lack of sleep. His answer was daringly close to telling the tyrant to go to bed. “Oh, Chris. Are you intending to insult me?” A harsh laugh escaped Wesker then. “I am only a few steps away from becoming a god. I am above those human needs.”

Wesker broke off the tirade for taking a gulp from the bottle, clearly having neglected any of his human needs – which he obviously didn’t have anymore. He was too tired to argue with Chris. “Get focused again and don’t fail your task.” He glanced at his soldier again, a thoughtful look replacing the sourness.

“On second thought... We will make her wait. I have another task for you.”

 

Chris could feel his muscles tense up and forced himself to straighten his back – he also put the mug aside on the counter next to him, by the coffee machine, ready to obey any order given to him and hating the device for changing him like this. Many things could come out of the tyrant’s mouth right now - and none of the possible ideas crossing his mind were pleasant. His body, still stuck in place, was forced to perk its head, chin lifted upwards, like one who was waiting to eagerly execute the said task. Wesker truly knew how to humiliate his pets.

 

The tyrant straightened his back as well, pushing away from the fridge and placing the bottle on the desk in the middle of the room. The tiredness was now less prominent, the impassive mask settling over his face again, accompanied by a dangerous glimmer in his eyes which would set off alarm bells in any other person. No. This wasn’t to be a pleasant mission.

“See how eager you are to please me, just like back in STARS.” Wesker commented, an eyebrow raising in question, always enjoying these moments thoroughly. “You will follow all my orders precisely. Some people need a physical demonstration of sorts.”

 

One of Chris’ fingers twitched before he could curl the rest of them up into tight fists, the latex-like material making a faint stretching noise, as a frown appeared on the younger blond's face. He almost looked displeased... Almost. He was just too apathetic for that after the drug had entered his body.

At the word ‘ _following_ ’, Chris stepped a little closer to the tyrant, letting him know he was obeying, and waiting for him to begin walking. The feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach didn't disappear, though.

 

“Follow me.” Wesker muttered primitively, turning sharply and striding off without looking back, expecting the younger man to follow him.

 

Chris’ eyes remained on the back of the tyrant's head as they walked through the dark corridors, passing not a single person. Almost everyone was asleep right now - the two were the first one to wake up. Well... Chris was to wake up early. The other blond had simply never gone to bed which was evident by his mood swings.

Something within him wanted to ask just where they were heading, but he kept his mouth shut, not intending on irritating the older man and set him off. He wanted his bones to stay intact.

 

The corridors were silent and cold; they echoed to their steps. It was a fast march, and soon enough they reached a conference room, packed full with men in suits and perfectly groomed hair. Their appearance screamed authority and wealth and it didn’t take a genius to guess that those were part of the guys who financed Tricell’s business. They both were still outside, Wesker glancing briefly inside the room through the window in the wall, then focusing his attention back on Chris.

“You will obey all my orders without questioning and without delay.” Wesker demanded in a low voice, leaving no room for argument. “You will not talk, not even when asked. You only answer to me. Understood?”

Even without the drug and the auto-injector attached to him, Chris hoped he would be able to obey those orders. He in no way wanted to come in any sort of contact with those people, let alone speak to them. And he feared Wesker was in one of _those_ moods again.

 

He remained quiet, only giving Wesker a single nod, his lidded eyes focused on his shades; noticing his shoulders had loosened up. Chris was prepared for the tyrant to simply show him off, and maybe try to display him. He was through it already once with Excella. 

 

Wesker observed his face for a second before tightening his hand around the knob and opening the door in one swift motion. He walked into the room like he owned the whole place, easily overshadowing them all with the aura of strength surrounding him. In front of the table he stopped, standing tall with his hands adjoined behind his back.

“Gentlemen,” be began, voice firm and loud, gathering their attention in only a second. “There are rumours that Tricell’s research is not reaching the desirable results. I will put out those rumors for good by presenting you one of our projects. I am certain you have read about it in one of your files. The P30 serum.” He waved a hand vaguely into Chris’ direction, not even bothering to turn around.

“Chris, bow down before those gentlemen.”

 

There was just a short moment of stiffness in the younger’s body before the larger man hung his head low and bent over, a forearm resting on his abdomen just like a butler bowing before the one he served. Chris was clearly displeased, though, it was well hidden by his own impassive mask - but he had done so regardless, not even bothering to try and oppose the given order. Those people were of high value for Tricell; their money meant a lot to Wesker. He knew something like that would happen - that he would be displayed and exposed. He was prepared for that.

...It didn’t mean he was eager for it. Chris despised every second of this. Only after the Tyrant's hand began lowering down, Chris allowed himself to straighten his back once more and lower his arm back to the side of his body, expression flat - unreadable.

 

Wesker dared a short side-glance, eyes completely hidden from his audience anyway, making sure to proceed when Chris had finished his greeting. He linked his hands behind his back again and started to slowly pace around the desk where the men were seated, like a hunter circling its prey.

“You see, this serum improves all his skills immensely and renders his mind helpless. He has to follow any order, regardless of his own emotions, making him the perfect soldier and exactly what you have been looking for.” Wesker raised a finger then, titling his head to the side as he reached Chris again.

“I know you won’t believe in petty words, no matter how promising they are. So I have prepared a demonstration for you.” A smirk formed on his lips, promising nothing good.

 

“Chris, get on your knees. Lick my boots.”

 

Chris’ jaw clenched. There was no way he was going to do something like this. Especially not in front of people. The sole of his foot dragged backwards, though, to allow his knee to bend and place itself on the floor, but some resistance was obvious - as his upper body was shaking ever so slightly. With his hands against the floor he tried to force himself to stand back up. No luck there. His eyes locked on Wesker and widen ever so slightly; expressing some form of betrayal.

The other knee was to bend afterwards, but Chris continued resisting his body and the device. He didn't allow himself to bend towards the tyrant's boots - but his pale pink lips have parted already, and a wet tongue stuck out from between them. Shit.

 

The tyrant’s eyes narrowed in displease. Chris was visibly fighting the device, although he gave his word for going along. They couldn’t have that. Those people could interfere with his work on Uroboros and delay his plans for the world.

 

A sneer formed on his lips, followed by raising a foot and stomping down on Chris’ back, forcing him down the last few inches. “Lick. My. Boot.”

"Ngh -" A faint grunt escaped the blond, which now was so much closer to Wesker’s boot. He was convincing himself and his body to be over with it, hoping this would be the last of his demands - at least for now. Palms were pressed flat against the floor as his tongue finally made contact with the bottom of the boot, dragging it with a slow, steady pace all the way up to its end – cheeks burning with shame.

 

Better.

A lot better, but not enough, not after Chris’ hesitation and this weak display. This would not do. He should feel pity for the man now that he decided to harm him more, but it was Chris’ own fault for failing him so – pathetically, really.

Wesker lifted his boot from his back and turned swiftly to pull out a chair, pushing it against the wall and sitting down with wide spread legs and a sardonically smile on his face like he was already a god who was way above those people in here. “Chris, crawl over here,” He started, “And you my dear gentlemen, be prepared for a show and remember- you can leave any time after signing a check.”

 

 

The men frowned at each other before moving their eyes to watch Chris - who already knew the command very well. Strong limbs were stretched on the floor much like a Licker and soon he was quite literally crawling towards the man dressed in all black, before stopping right in front of him. He had settled a little closer to the left leg of the tyrant - the one he was licking before, and reared backwards. His knees were bend and pointed outwards, exposing his body with the form-fitting battlesuit. His rear was resting on the heels of his flat boots and the toes were the only thing providing balance to him. Albeit the large frame of the man, he had perfect balance.

 

The men weren't complaining just yet, rather, some were enjoying the view.

The question was for how long? Were those men just curious and not thinking this through, not realizing what actions were set into motion or maybe – maybe they were just as sick as Wesker believed the whole human race to be. It would only fuel the man’s determination to wipe them all out.

The tyrant extended his arm, petting Chris’ head like he was a mere dog, even going as far as to praise him like one. “Good boy,” A quiet murmur, and then suddenly all nice words were gone and his face was an impassive mask again. “Now unzip my pants.”

 

At least two of the men have straightened in their seats - but said nothing. Some of them had truly not expected what was about to happen, for the one who appeared so unwilling to even put up with the previous order was still going along with his demands. Some were questioning how Wesker was able to make the man do so, fascinated by the device's power, but some appeared to be simply waiting. Either waiting for it to get truly interesting, or waiting... for it to go wrong.

Chris pressed his teeth together, brows arching ever so slightly, before his expression was once more wiped off and became blank again. There was no way for him to resist against this, he already knew. Even if he were to somehow succeed, Wesker would punish him twice as hard when this all was over and they were to be alone again... If he didn't already plan to do so.

 

He shuddered.

However, his body wasn’t resisting as he leaned forward onto his knees and positioned himself between the tyrant's legs, gloved hands grabbingthe zipper and quickly pulling it down, followed by opening the little black button.

 

Wesker stopped an exhale that threatened to escape his lips. This was supposed to be a display of the power of the device – all attention needed to be on Chris and how he struggles against it, but eventually loses to it. Not on him losing control of his reactions himself. He hadn’t thought this one through; it was a rather spontaneous idea and he clearly had forgotten how easily Chris could rile him up - quite a lot to be honest. The tyrant needed to make him wince.

He buried his hand harshly into Chris’ hair and dragged him closer, making it fairly painful on purpose. “You know what to do. Get it out and lick it just as lovingly as you did my boot,” he drawled, thoroughly enjoying himself.

 

There was a weak hiss, not that of anger, but rather from the pain in his scalp as his blond locks were yanked forward, forcing his nose towards Wesker's body. His fingers tried to grip on the tyrant's thighs for comfort as he glanced up, begging him to rethink his order with his eyes – fearing for the worst to happen. He would follow his order either way, as he does not intend in any way to anger him further.

For naught. It was all for naught.

Fingers were already pulling at Wesker's underwear and there were no further words exchanged between them. Even the grip on his hair hadn't loosened up yet.

 

Chris revealed the man's cock just enough to slide his tongue over it - his cheeks flushed red. Wesker shivered at the sensation, hiding his reaction perfectly well from those men. Being watched while doing this sort of thing was surprisingly thrilling and he found himself growing excited rather fast.

Better change the plan a bit.

 

Yes.

 

_Yes._

 

The smirk widened considerable as a new idea struck his mind. Oh, poor little Chris, he was certainly not prepared for what was about to happen. The more he thought about it the more he was eager to test the limits of this device. His body started vibrating with excitement at the thought and he had a hard time to hide it now. And he was already hard so there was no stopping anymore. Excella could do without her toy for a few days.

 

“Chris, my precious pet,” he started with a sweet smile on his face, clearly mocking Chris with the false friendliness. “Be a good boy and retrieve my knife.”

 

Chris’ heart was pounding fast in his chest after that command, the noise reaching his ears. It was almost deafening. What was Wesker planning? Chris just couldn't come up with anything not too horrible, but he gently released the man's underwear and leaned back on his heels. No... He wouldn't disobey. He wouldn't even attempt questioning the other blond.

But he was terrified - and the men had taken note of the unfocused, wide icy blue eyes of the larger man as he headed over and snatched the knife. They also took note that his body - albeit the expression on his face - wasn't trembling one bit. However, the little red light on the device was blinking now, rather than simply glowing dully. It showed that he was fighting it, but couldn’t win.

 

Without making a noise, Chris got back on his knees in front of the tyrant and handed over the sharp knife.

Said man still had that mockingly sweet smile on his face, petting his head again as gratitude for bringing the knife. Chris was acting up less than before and it made the horrible betrayal that was about to happen all the sweeter. He leaned forward, grabbing him by the chin – harshly – and whispered in his ear.

“My dear Christopher, I promise you, if you behave now, I will let you fuck me later. But now, be the best little puppy you can be.” His voice was soft but it was cold, without any real sympathy for the man kneeling before him. It was like he had priced the damned knife in Chris’ heart. “This will hurt, a lot. You will not like it, but you _will_ obey. Understood?”

 

The men’s heads peaked up in curiosity as Wesker began to whisper, wondering what the hell the tyrant was planning - but dared not to say a word. Chris himself couldn't come up with what it was that was about to happen. He could do nothing more than quietly begging for his life.

 

Wesker took his silence as confirmation and raised his eyes up, fixing them on the men in the room, the sweet smile still in place, creeping out a lot of them. He leaned back in the chair and made a huge gesture with the knife. The tyrant was a businessman once, when he was still leading a human life; so he knew how to entertain the dumb sheep in their expensive suits. “Gentlemen, I will now show you the full power of the device!” His voice boomed through the room.

“This man,” he pointed with the knife at Chris as he said that, “hates me with every fiber of his being. But this device will force him to please me, no matter how cruel the task I give him. Watch carefully now.” The smile had an insane edge to it now – Wesker was drunk on power

 

This was going to end horribly.

 

“Chris slice open your palm with the knife. All the way through.”

 

Chris’ eyes narrowed, cringing at the painful thought, but the order was given, and a new dose of P30 was already coursing through his body, making it ache and harder to resist - as if it wasn't hard enough already. Once again he didn’t utter a word when he took the knife from Wesker and placed the sharp weapon in the middle of his palm, staring at it for a moment.

A fang sank into his lower lip in order to silence his scream and with a swift movement he rushed the knife down, slicing the glove and the flesh beneath it open. The blood was already dripping to the floor when he roared in pain.

It was unbelievable painful.

 

Wesker took the knife out of his hand and grabbed Chris’ hand, inspecting the wound. That wouldn’t do. Without hesitation or warning I plunged the knife into his palm again, ripping his palm fully open, using his inhuman strength to crush the bones in there. He didn’t care how much it hurt the other man, being as this display would surely sell the device.

Again, he moved in closer as if to whisper into Chris’ ear, but this time he said his words loud enough for everyone to hear. “What a nice little hole you have got now.” A sadistic laugh escaped him as he lovingly stroked his thumb over the completely damaged hand. “The word ‘hand job’ gets a whole new meaning now, don’t you think so, too, Chris?”

“Now give me a hand job my dear little pet.”

 

His fingers were limp as well as his wrist, his palm - the bones have been shattered and the bleeding wouldn't stop. The pain, it was maddening... The feeling of sickness was overwhelming the blond, though, he couldn't stop himself from watching his mangled hand bleed onto the floor and create a pool of red liquid beneath him. He couldn't speak. All that could be heard was the heavy, shaken breath of Chris as well as the chattering of his teeth.

He felt like he's going to vomit, from the pain alone.

 

His body didn't stop, however, and hurried to go on and obey. There was no way for him to move his wrist - a physical restrain from the damage, one that even the drug couldn't fix. But it did force him to straighten his palm with his healthy hand, and slowly move it against the erect member right in front of him, engulfing it in the gaping wound.

 

His skin was paling, and he looked just as sick as the zombies he had fought before, but he couldn't scream. Just go on and force his own hand along the other. Moving forward and back.

 

Forward and back. Over and over again.

 

“Yeees!” Wesker moaned, more turned on by the fact that he was fucking through a hand – getting a rather new creative hand job by the way – then by the job itself, and was already way too close for his own liking. He wanted to enjoy this one, but he also wanted to get the money for his research and some of the men looked like they were ready to vomit any second.

Better end this fast.

“Faster, Chris!” The tyrant demanded, bucking up against the hand, tearing open the wound a bit more with his frantic thrusts. He couldn’t slow down, even if Chris begged him on his knees to do so; he was too close to the blissful release.

The other man’s teeth were clenched firmly - so hard against each other he would almost chip one if he wouldn't hurry and finish this quick. His eyes were watering from the pain as his fingers tightened their grip around the broken one, doing as he was told. Chris had to do everything he could in his willpower to not empty his stomach on Wesker's shoes.

 

He was going as fast as he could, his breath shortening. "Please, just make this stop..."

 

The desperate plea in Chris voice riled him up even more, making him thrust up without mercy, ripping the hand even further. They might not be able to save it after this ordeal, but he would make sure to invest a small amount of the money into a mechanical one – maybe a special piece, in order for them to repeat this session.

 

Wesker grabbed for his hand and violently pushed it against his member, thrusting a few more times before a long moan escaped him, followed by slower, shallower thrusts, riding out his orgasm. It ended embarrassingly fast, but he couldn’t care less for it felt better than anything he had done before.

 

If it weren’t for Chris needing immediate medical attention, he would have given it another go.

Resultantly, he let go of his hand, sighing as he finally came down from the high. As soon as Chris was given back his hand, he allowed it to rest on the floor, trying to catch his own breath. The hand was burning, it was incredibly painful, and Wesker's cum was all over it, making the burning sensation worse.

He didn’t understand how a man could receive so much joy from … _this_ \- with his cock dripping with blood like this. But the device...

It did prove itself.

 

Wesker looked down at his cock in disgust after noticing all the blood over it. He really hadn’t thought that one through. A mistake that had happened too often in the past. The blond really had to stop to be this impulsive with his plans and decisions. With a few strokes over his member with his gloved hands he was able to get rid of most of the blood and tucked it back into his pants.

Then he stripped off his gloves and let them fall to the ground. There was no need to keep them anymore.

He focused his attentions back on the men in the room, brushing a hand through his hair to smooth back a few strands. “Gentlemen, I hope you enjoyed this show. If you will excuse us, my pet and I need to leave now – or rather, my pet needs to seek medical attention now.” The last part was directed towards Chris, his last order for the day.

They needed to at least _try_  saving his hand.

 

He wasn’t a completely heartless monster after all.


End file.
